Touchstone

Disclaimer: Heh, I forgot to add the disclaimer to chapter one, as I suck. *clears throat* Not mine. tee!
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Touchstone
Chapter Two

By Gin


The teapot was hissing and Snape took it off the fire, wincing as he burned his hand on the hot metal. Dumbledore said he might be connected with the girl. \'Surely not.\' His presence couldn\'t have been strong enough to link him with her. Interesting nonetheless.

He poured himself a cup of tea and sat heavily back into his favourite, and surprisingly comfortable, armchair before the empty hearth. Suddenly his brows knitted. But of course he would have to take responsibility with this! And of course Albus would look to him to fix this mess! Never mind the fact that it was obvious the girl was preparing herself for death, and never mind the fact that he would be the one who, if successful, would be the one to see her like that. Another part of his mind spoke up, chastising him for his behaviour. \'Yes,\' he thought, \'I\'m pouting. I\'ve earned it.\' He contemplated his tea. His lids felt heavy, and his body was tired.

\'Well, I do need sleep if I\'m to actually go through with this.\' He thought taking a sip of his tea. He loved tea. And making it the \"old-fashioned\" way was so much bettean can conjuring it up. The process of making it had always calmed him down; that is, if calm was to be had. He leaned back in his chair, and rested his head on the back, closing his eyes.

****flasback****

\"Harry Potter! You come to finally meet your death....\" The high-pitched raspy voice rang out in the room. Severus held his ground hidden just behind the doorway.

\"Crucio!\" The curse was directed at Hermione and she screamed and convulsed under it while Voldemort laughed. Harry fought against the chains that held him to the wall.

\"Leave her alone you bastard!\" Tears stung his eyes as he watched his best friend writhe in pain when a dark figure snuck into the room. Voldemort\'s wand twitched effectively cutting off the curse on Hermione. She lay exhausted and spasming on the ground.

\"Oh Harry, I am going to enjoy this....\" the voice began…

****

Snape blinked and sat up; letting out the breath he didn\'t realize he had been holding. Gingerly setting his tea onto the side table next to the armchair, he massaged his temples again. He just wanted to forget about that night. So what if he could save Hermione? She has nothing left to come back to. She\'d just go right back to her death bed and it would all be over.

Maybe it wasn\'t such a bad idea his mind thought treacherously. Long ago he, himself, had promised the Headmaster he would not take his life, but, then again, that was before Voldemort had been destroyed. Sure, there were a few stray Death Eaters to be hunted down, but the Ministry could handle them. It would be so easy, to just let go. Be free. Freedom. Did he ever know what that was? Maybe there was a time when he knew what it was to be truly free when he was younger. That is, until his brother died. His parents never forgave him. It really hadn\'t been his fault, but over time he had come to agree with his parents. Maybe Hermione has it all figured out. Death is the only true freedom. And he would never be free. People would never stop hunting him. Perhaps he should consider this new option.... He sighed again. But only after he sorted out this current situation that was waiting for him in the hospital wing. Then perhaps his debts would be paid and he would leave. Forever.

Snape finished off his tea and got up, not bothering to light the way and walked into his bedroom scowling. He shrugged out of his robes and slipped into bed . He. He couldn\'t sleep otherwise, else the tangled sheets would claim his life when he tossed and turned. He never was a good sleeper. As he lay in bed he wondered what it would be like to actually go inside another\'s mind. It was a rare process, not easily done, and it required powerful magic indeed.

He yawned and gazed out the window at the stars- a favourite pastime of his. His eyelids were beginning to droop, and blessed nothingness start to take over, when he felt a soft thump at the end of his bed.

\'That blasted feline!\' he thought dispiritedly. Hermione\'s familiar had taken up residence with him when his Mistress hadn\'t returned. Harry, Ron and Hermione had come up to the castle for the final battle and she had brought her pet with her. But since that fateful night, the cat was determined to stay with Snape.

He settled himself again, thinking back to how different he thought they had been when they arrived back at Hogwarts, than to that of their school age selves. Obviously they had grown up; they had graduated four years earlier. Each had been successful: Harry Potter, being The Boy Who Lived, had taken a job as an Auror with the Ministry and was predictably successful. \'Big surprise there,\' he thought sarcastically. Ron Weasley had taken a job in a Magical Innovations department for professional Quidditch and was a leading authority on racing brooms. While Hermione Granger had became the youngest department head at the Ministry\'s Research and Development office in London ever.

Snape closed his eyes remembering- he had definitely noticed Hermione. She certainly had grown up; and in more ways than one. Her previously bushy hair had been for the most part subdued, into long, soft curls. And she had filled out to become a rather attractive woman. Much different than her school-age counterpart had been. Snape knew it had been inappropriate to have noticed, but as Filius Flitwick had mentioned, before he died, in one of their late evening chats, he\'d have to be a blind man to not have noticed.

They had been so young, and full of promise, if not a bit tarnished from the world. But the war had nicked away at everyone. Snape rolled over onto his back, frowning. And now look at them; they were all in at least some way destroyed. Sensing the man\'s distress, the cat slinked up the bed to nuzzle Severus\' face. This man reminded the feline of his Mistress. Snape didn\'t mind, however, and even returned the favour, rubbing the cat’s back. It was actually soothing to have another creature willingly be around, and soon he was lulled into sleep by the feline\'s deep and rhythmic purrs.

~*~*~*~

Snape awoke with the gray of dawn after a fretful night\'s sleep. Not that he\'d expect anything less, but at least he got a few hours in. He stretched languidly and looked down at the orange mass of fur under one of his pillows.

\"Blasted feline.\" He reached across and affectionately scratched the top of the ginger cat\'s head and was rewarded with a soft purr. He crossed the room to go into the bathroom and take a quick shower before going up to eat some breakfast. Dry toast and coffee, black. He had a feeling his nerves would not allow for much more. After the shower, he changed into his customary black school robes and made his way to the Great Hall for his meager breakfast, and then up to the infirmary where, unsurprisingly, Dumbledore was already waiting.

\"Ah Severus. Come in my friend. I trust you had a good night\'s rest?\" Dumbledore smiled at Snape\'s grumbled response.

\"As good as can be anticipated.\" Snape peered over the older man\'s shoulder at Hermione lying motionless as ever on the bed. \"Nothing?\" his eyes held a brief flicker of hope but the bleak look in Albus\' face told him his answer. \"Well then, I have no choice but to comply with your wishes. What would you have me do?\"

\"You always have a choice Severus,\" the Headmaster locked his eyes with Severus\'. As I said before, I believe due to the traumatic experience, you and Miss Granger shared a metaphysical link before she slipped away. I also believe using the Communis Spell could possibly join you two inside her consciousness.\" Dumbledore surveyed the younger man before him. \"You know this will not be easy. Can you handle this Severus?\"

Snape paused before giving his answer. This would be tough, true, not to mention it would drain a considerable amount of energy, mainly from him. But, he had a chance to at least try to save one more person, unselfishly, before he himself left this world. And with that final thought he squared his shoulders, tilted his head up, and answered, \"Yes. I can. What must I do?\"

Poppy Pomfrey, the mediwitch on staff at Hogwarts stood by watching nervously, as did Minerva McGonagalle Dee Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House, both were worried, and quite fond of Severus; and Hermione. As Severus took hold of Hermione\'s hands, Dumbledore began a complex incantation that moments later Snape himself joined in. Snape tried to relax, and began to feel light-headed as the spell wove itself into his mind and body. He slowly sank into a nearby chair, careful not to lose his train of thought, or his grip on Hermione\'s cold hands. His body started to tingle, not unpleasantly, and his vision blurred as the spell took effect. Then, quite suddenly, everything was black.

*~*~*~

He was in the middle of a very white room. Well, it could be a room but there were no walls. Snape covered his eyes against the harsh light, and felt very much disoriented as he waited for his mind and vision to clear. When it did, he slowly stood up and looked around the space- there was no Hermione.

\'Oh Gods......I know I am not lost in a hidden part of Hermione\'s conscious...\' he thought. As if his thoughts were read, the whiteness of the room suddenly took on a golden glow and objects became clearer. Snape noticed a large oriental style rug covered the floor in front of him, a couple of wingback chairs sat facing an enormous marble fireplace- complete with burning flames, and perpendicular to the fireplace stood an elaborate bookshelf filled to the brim...and a plain wooden door, but still no Hermione.

The light in roo room was faint, and retained its golden hue as Snape’s eyes again readjusted, and made his way over the abstract sitting room. Just as he was sitting down into one of the large chairs he heard a weak voice.

\"Hello?\"

Snape’s head whipped up and he was on his feet. Hermione had appeared in the doorway, and she looked ghastly. Her complexion was pale, her eyes waxy and her hair unkempt. Her clothes looked rumpled and she was alive- but just barely.

The disheveled young woman braced herself against the door jamb and looked quizzically at her guest. She had a strange feeling she knew this man, but could not quite place it. Snape checked his jaw, and continue to stare at Hermione. It had actually worked.

He cleared his throat. \"Ah, how are you feeling Miss Granger?\" he took a tentative step towards her, but stopped as she tensed and huddled further into the doorway. A full minute went by and he was beginning to think that this had all been just one big mistake when she finally answered.

\"Well, I have been better,\" she said weakly. Her face was impassive and her eyes were dull. She was living death in itself.

Snape nodded and began to ask another question when she again replied. \"If you don\'t mind my asking.....who are you?\"
~*~*~*~

A/N: K. The Latin, I had help with, though it is my own Spell. Props to Shan for the interpretation however. How am I doing so far?